Summer
by GreyTwine
Summary: Speech and Debate. Diwata, Solomon, and Howie meet up for the first time since the end of school.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi! This is based on Speech and Debate, an off-off-Broadway show by Stephen Karam. (Disclaimer: I'm not he.) I don't remember the actual ages of the characters, unfortunately, except that Solomon might have been sixteen. Anyhow, for my purposes, Solomon was a junior, and both Howie and Diwata were seniors at the time of the show. Also, my memory is, as of yet, not perfect, and details may be wrong. Feel free to correct me. If anyone's seen the show, that is. :) Please review! Whether or not you liked it, I'd like to know why. Thanks!**

TUESDAY, JULY 24

_Hey, this is Howie, leave a message and maybe I'll call you back._ "Hi Howie, this is Solomon. I was just calling to see what's, um, what's up, because I just got back from…camp and I was kind of bored and I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out or something. Um, bye."

_You've reached Solomon's cell phone. Please leave a message so I can return your call. Thanks, and have a nice day._ "Okay, you really need to change your message…it's, like, really weird. So I'll probably be hanging out by the river Thursday, if you want to show up. Yeah. Okay. Bye."

from: can u plz come 2 the river thurs bcuz solomon is and i rlly dont want 2 go alone.

from: was planning on drinking slowly but surely and seeing if it's true that that helps stave off a drunken stupor, but I'll sacrifice my scientific experimentation for you ladies.

Although I have been avoiding the park since I found out that Healy haunts it.

from: u stop calling us 'ladies'?!?!?!?!?!?

from: be stupid. See you Thursday.

THURSDAY, JULY 26

Howie sat in a tree, pretending to read Nietzsche. He had noticed that all the noble yet troubled movie youth seemed to read Nietzsche, so he had bought Thus Spoke Zarathustra. It was boring and wordy, so Howie googled it to find out the ending. He ended up liking the Nietzsche he found on google, and thought that all the 'God is dead' stuff was pretty solid. So here he sat, in the upper branches of a maple tree, looking over the top of Thus Spoke Zarathustra for Solomon and Diwata.

Diwata pulled up at 12:03, an hour and three minutes after Howie had arrived. He pulled the leaves more tightly around him, as if another branch would hide him better. Diwata slammed the door of her large red car and clicked the lock button, satisfied at the click of technology. Her orange corduroys clashed horrible with both her car and the heat. She swung a dirt-colored bag over her shoulder and looked, Howie thought, surprisingly normal. He assumed this was because he was too far away to see her very well, and also because she was wearing sunglasses. She strode to a plastic bench, looked to both her left and her right, and, seeing nothing, pulled out a notebook covered in construction paper and crayon.

Howie rolled his eyes and called out, "Hey!"

Diwata scribbled furiously in her notebook. Sighing, Howie tried again. "Hey! Diwata!"

This time, she looked up, bounced off the bench, and walked very quickly towards the tree. She peered inquisitively up. "Howie?"

He stared down at her. He had forgotten how much her voice annoyed him. "Hi."

"Are you coming down, or am I coming up?"

"Um, I was going to come down, but…"

Diwata waited. Another habit Howie had never come to love. "But you can come up. Actually, yeah, come up."

It was almost conspiratorial, the way the two of them waited for Solomon. Howie thought that it would have been much more so if they had waited in silence, but he couldn't be that lucky. "So what have you been doing with yourself?" she wanted to know.

"Nothing unusual," he responded. Diwata snorted. "What?"

"What do you consider unusual?"

"I don't know. Um, cliff-diving, scuba diving, baseball. You know." Diwata smiled. "Um, could you stop staring at me? It's really uncomfortable." Diwata had been staring at Howie, she knew, although she was a little surprised that he had noticed. She was just fascinated by how little he'd changed.

"I wasn't _staring_," she pointed out quickly. She guessed that she hadn't changed much, either.

"Um, yeah, you were."

"FYI, I was just…looking. There's a difference, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

After a moment of silence, Diwata spoke again, this time staring hard at the parking lot. "Do you ever think we should have turned Mr. Healy in?"

This is why she has no friends, thought Howie. Awkward subjects are her crack. "I don't really think about it," he lied.

"Yeah, sure."

"You know, you really should figure out when to shut up." Howie didn't regret saying it, but he did regret his temper flare.

Diwata considered getting mad, but she didn't want to. She shrugged. "Whatever," she said, even though 'whatever' was not what she was thinking.

"Solomon's here." Howie instinctively closed the leaves around them. Diwata raised her eyebrows remarkably high and stuck her head out of the tree.

"We're up here, Solomon!" Solomon stepped out of his father's car. He was nearly bald.

Howie snickered. He jumped out of the tree, stumbling a little, and waved towards Solomon. Diwata climbed down, appearing feet first and complaining about scraping her knee. Solomon began to walk over, and finding a walk too slow, began a fully-fledged jog, arms pumping pompously at his sides. "Freak," muttered Howie.

Solomon reached them and smiled instinctively. "Hi." Howie reached out and rubbed his head.

"Where's your hair, man?"

Grinning strangely, Solomon said, "In the compost heap at camp."

Diwata folded her arms and tilted her head. "Well…?"

Solomon exhaled. "You really want to know?"

Howie sat down, cross-legged. "Only if there's kinky sex."

Diwata kicked Howie and joined him on the ground. Both looked up expectantly. Solomon's cheeks were slightly pink. "I didn't think we'd get to this so fast." He sat down, knees pulled to his chest. "Okay. So…"

**To be continued, whether or not anyone reads and/or reviews. That said, it would be nice if you did review. Thank you kindly. (As opposed to thanking you unkindly.) **


	2. Chapter 2

**I hope that you're enjoying reading!**

THURSDAY, JULY 26

"So. I'm not too sure where to start." Solomon's hands were locked together.

"At the very beginning," trilled Diwata. "A very good place to—" Howie sighed loudly.

Solomon smiled a little, and then abruptly stopped.

Howie prompted, "This one time, at gay camp…"

Solomon looked over his knees at what seemed to be the only spot of brown on the very green field. He had almost succeeded in totally blocking them out. Without breaking his glare, he began.

"Nothing spectacularly interesting really…"

"But I thought there was kinky sex!"

Howie touched Diwata's arm so hard that he almost hit her. He shook his head. She opened her mouth and closed it again. Solomon was still glowering sadly at the ground. Diwata rolled her eyes. "Sorry."

Howie snapped his fingers in Solomon's face. "Hey fre--. Um. I mean, what happened?"

Solomon twitched. "Like I said." Even innately, he was dramatic. "Nothing much. I showed up there—and it was really weird, even the second time, even though everything was pretty much the same as last summer. I mean, they have all these risqué pictures of playboy bunnies and stuff, because I guess normal—not normal, I mean, you know—I mean, straight lust is better than gay lust, basically. So we're in these cabin things with like, nine other boys for two months and there are all sorts—like, really gay guys, sort of gay guys, bi, "cured," whatever. Except there's this one guy—David—who's really—um. He's really hot, I guess, if one were to put in so many words that—anyhow, David, he's like, the anti-Christ. All the counselors hated him because he was so far against The Mission, and he would keep doing these sketchy things like not being in by lights out or singing Freedom. And he kind of led this…rebellion, sort of. It was like, if you thought that the whole of The Mission was stupid—well, beyond stupid, wrong, really—then you were supposed to shave your head. And so David and, like, twenty others and me, which is almost a fifth of the camp, we shaved our heads after lights out. It was pretty much a cult. When the priest asked him why, David said something about gay pride, which is just not something you say in public there, especially during Sunday school. Anyhow, they almost kicked him out, but they thought he, of all people, needed their message the most. And so I have no hair."

Solomon waited for the silence to end. He didn't have to wait long.

"That's _it_?" Diwata was surprised at how much coercion Solomon would need before she could know the actual story.

"No, it's not." Howie seemed disgusted. "Grow up and quit leaving out details."

The corners of Solomon's mouth twisted robotically upward. "What?"

"Come on! You seriously think we believe that that's it? We're—" he glanced at Diwata. "Well, _I'm_ not stupid, and if you called to hang out or whatever, it's pretty much never gonna be able to happen if you keep being so damn immature. Jesus, it's like we're in kindergarten!"

Diwata snapped up from her steadily drooping posture. "Leave him the fuck alone, Howie! Jesus Christ! It's like you can't even be civil for like, the two minutes it would take to force whatever it is out of him. Give the kid a break! He just spent two months in the bosom of God!"

Howie breathed forcefully.

"I didn't leave that much out," muttered Solomon.

"Oh, yes you did, don't lie," snapped Diwata.

The three looked pointedly in differing directions. Diwata's jaw was clenched, and Solomon's spine was unbent. Two minutes and fifty five silent seconds later, Howie left. He made a show of the exit and didn't saying good-bye to anyone. Before he'd even started his car, Diwata jumped up, whipped out her sunglasses, and told Solomon, "Well, good-bye."

Solomon climbed the tree.

**Any review would be appreciated, thank you.**


	3. Chapter 3

**If you're following this story, which you must be if you're reading this, then I hope you like it. Review, if you'd be so kind.**

THURSDAY, JULY 26

_DIWATA has logged on._

_Abe16 has logged on._

DIWATA: Hey. You okay?

Abe16: Yeah.

Abe16: Thanks for sticking up for me.

DIWATA: Any time, kid.

DIWATA: So, are you going to tell me what happened now?

Abe16: Seriously. Nothing.

DIWATA: You can't actually think I'm that dense.

Abe16: SERIOUSLY

DIWATA: Okay, okay.

DIWATA: Jesus.

Abe16: Sorry.

Abe16: Okay.

DIWATA: Ha. I knew you'd talk.

Abe16: Type, not talk.

Abe16: Moving on…

Abe16: First of all, I wasn't lying.

Abe16: Nothing actually happened.

Abe16: David had a boyfriend and I didn't. I was jealous.

DIWATA: So how much did you like this David fellow?

Abe16: I never said I liked him.

DIWATA: Solomon. _I'm not stupid._

DIWATA: Get

DIWATA: That

DIWATA: Through

DIWATA: Your

Abe16: A lot

DIWATA: Head

DIWATA: A lot?

Abe16: Yes.

Abe16: A lot.

Abe16: So has he called you?

DIWATA: Why on earth would David be calling me?

DIWATA: You didn't give him my number, right?

DIWATA: I don't think he'd be into me.

DIWATA: I'm dickless.

Abe16: I meant your not-boyfriend.

DIWATA: What the fuck?

Abe16: Sorry.

Abe16: I'm sorry.

DIWATA: No, you're not.

DIWATA: If you were sorry, you wouldn't have said it in the first place.

Abe16: But I didn't mean to bring up all that

DIWATA: Then why the fuck did you say it?

_DIWATA has logged off._

Abe16: Sorry.

FRIDAY, JULY 27

Diwata snapped open her phone before it had finished it's first ring. "Hey."

"Why the hell are you awake? It's like, tomorrow."

Wishing Howie could see her roll eyes, Diwata sighed. "That would make it today, dear."

"Hey, have you talked to Solomon yet?" Howie spoke quickly, as if this would make his words better.

Diwata cradled the phone to her ear. "Sort of. A little. Online. What's wrong?"

Howie breathed heavily away from the speaker. "What's David's last name?"

Diwata gasped unnecessarily. "Oh my god. Did you sleep with him?"

"I think I'm drunk."

"When you slept with him, or now?"

"Now."

"You slept with David?"

Howie took on a tone of great indignity. "You don't have to sound so shocked. I sleep with people too, you know. You just assume that because—"

"Are you sure?"

"That I sleep with people? Uh, yeah. Very, very sure."

Diwata tried to kick her bedpost. She missed and was left with a disconcerting foot in the air. "Are you sure that you slept with David?"

"Jesus! No, I'm not sure. Did Solomon say what David looked like?"

Reluctantly, Diwata gave an honest response. "No." She sighed loudly. "I got nothing."

Howie's words gained fluidity as they progressed. "Look, all I know is that I know this guy named David and we slept together once and he and I were IMing the other day and he mentioned that he shaved his head."

Diwata's voice sagged. "Poor Solomon."

"Well, it's not like I knew! This was way before that camp or whatever. And seriously, I can sleep with whoever I want. It's not like it's any of your business."

"So why the hell are you telling me?"

"Good question." There was a pause, and in that pause was every emotion that Howie had no words for. "Okay, so I'm gonna hang up now." His hand hurt from gripping the phone.

"Don't hang up." The imperative had a type of honesty that can only show itself at two in the morning. Howie obeyed. "I'm sorry," said a slightly shocked Diwata. "I didn't mean to…whatever you think I did." Diwata hadn't had anyone to apologize to in a very long time. "I know that sometimes I'm a bitch about…well, about a lot of things, and I'm really actually sorry." She nodded vigorously and wondered why she was lying to Howie at some ungodly hour of the morning.

"Okay. Um, I'm sorry for being so…aggressive, I guess." Howie played back his words in his mind. "What the hell am I talking about? I'm so not sorry. I'm sorry, but that's just me."

Diwata smiled. "Good night."

"Hey, Diwata?"

She bit her lip. "Yeah?"

"Come back to the park tomorrow."

"Are you like, asking me out?"

"Absolutely."

""Night, Howie."

"'Night."

Neither hung up. Diwata snorted out a laugh and Howie reached for an ironic chuckle.

""Night," Diwata declared, and she hung up.

Howie looked around his room. His computer screen glowed, Nietzsche lay open on his desk, and his iPod played faintly through dilapidated earbuds. He went to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**I assume that this isn't being read. I therefore deem this header useless and silly.**

FRIDAY, JULY 27

_wittyname has signed on._

_Blboi16 has signed on._

wittyname: what are you doing today?

Blboi16: going to hang out at the park w/ sum friends

wittyname: can i come? otherwise it'll be just another day of me and my guitar

Blboi16: hows that going?  
wittyname: surprisingly well.

Blboi16: cool. yeah, come

wittyname: can i bring a friend?

Blboi16: depends…iz he hott?

wittyname: in a twisted sort of way. straight, though.

Blboi16: (xx)

Blboi16: fine

wittyname: cool

Blboi16: heyy, u kno someone named solomon?

wittyname: yeah. from camp. good kid. we made out once. why?

Blboi16: you made out?!?!?!?!?!?!

wittyname: in passing.

Blboi16: i cant believe him

Blboi16: he just doesnt tell the truth

Blboi16: ever

wittyname: what now?

Blboi16: wut else happened at god camp?

wittyname: sermons. head-shaving. general sex.

Blboi16: 4 serious

wittyname: seriously. it was all one big orgy.

Blboi16: david…

wittyname: ok.

wittyname: it was kinda like normal camp, expect they spent a lot of time telling us to be straight. and everyone was hooking up. not to say there weren't a fair few who were all into being straight. most of them ended up hooking up anyway.

Blboi16: weeeeird. and u solomon…?

wittyname: we were sitting around the first week and we kinda just made out. it's not a big deal

Blboi16: 4 u

wittyname: hmm?

Blboi16: nm

wittyname: then mickey and i started going out

Blboi16: good 4 u

wittyname: yeah…he lives in charleston though, so that was the end of that

Blboi16: yeah

wittyname: so see you soon?

Blboi16: l8r.

_Blboi16 has signed off._

_wittyname has signed off._

_You've reached Diwata. On the off-chance that you have this number and you didn't birth me, I'll call you back._

"Hey, Diwata? Yeah, it's Howie. Um, so I was thinking like twelve for the park…same place. Can you tell Solomon? Also, um, David's coming but it wasn't my idea and he, like, guilted me into it. I mean, he was all like, otherwise, I'll have nothing to do all day and I'll be all alone cause my boyfriend lives below the Mason-Dixon Line or whatever. Um, bye."

_Hey, this is Howie, leave a message and maybe I'll call you back._

"No fucking chance, Howie. _You_ call Solomon and tell him, because, FYI, this one is so not my fault. And don't be an asshole about it."

_Hey, this is Solomon's cell phone. Leave a message, and I'll check in later!_

"Oh my god. That message is horrible. Switch it back. Anyway, Diwata and I are meeting at the park again at twelve if you want to come. So yeah. See you then."

Solomon was sitting on the pebbles by the water. River residue seeped through his khakis. He was staring at a yacht across the river, trying to determine the characters of the specks of people on its deck. He had determined that the glowing orange speck was a kid in a life jacket. The kid worked too hard to get good grades and had a propensity for music in three four. The kid's mother was the green dot and the source of the keening laugh that kept throwing itself across the river. She was pregnant, but her husband didn't know. Her husband—the white dot— was a lawyer, rich and around just enough to criticize his household with painfully true accusations.

Solomon heard a shuffling of stones and he looked up. Howie sat next to him on the wet rocks, only comfortable with the damp mud because he was wearing black jeans. He shifted back and forth a little until he realized he was rocking. He opened his mouth and closed it again. He realized that he was acting like Solomon. He snapped out of it.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey." They met each others eyes, and quickly looked away. Solomon gazed at the yacht. "Sorry about yesterday. I don't like talking about it."   
Howie rolled his eyes dramatically. "Yeah."

"It's just weird. I'm not used to it."

"Well, you can start getting unused to it, cause you're not gonna get anything like that around here." Solomon raised his head at Howie's bitterness.

"Except you."

Howie looked towards the parking lot. "Next year, me and Diwata are gone. It's just you and little old Salem."

Solomon stared intently at his shoes. They were once The White Shoes, but now they were grey with age and paint. "Yeah. It'll be okay though. I mean, it won't be too bad. Right?" He looked to Howie for reassurance.

Howie clicked his tongue. "Hey look, it's Diwata." He pointed childishly and unexcitedly to her car.

They were silent as she approached, though Solomon was stingingly aware that Howie hadn't answered. She plopped between the two of them and looked at their faces. "Why so blissful, you two?"

Howie responded. "Just the general pangs of typical Salem boyhood."

Diwata raised her eyebrows. "You sound like me."

Howie pretended to vomit.

A voice from behind them sounded. "Long time no see." All three heads whipped around. David was standing behind them, grinning, his impossibly bright shirt glowing. Next to him was a slightly taller boy, his auburn hair short and not brushed. He smiled amiably until he heard Diwata's cry.

"What the _fuck_?"

Howie threw up his hands. "I didn't do it!"

The other boy's mouth was hanging open, his eyebrows radically crinkled. "_Diwata_?"

Diwata jumped up. Head held too high, she walked away so speedily that she might as well have run.

"What the hell!" exclaimed Howie. David looked at his friend, who still hadn't shut his mouth.

David hit him. "Danny, what the hell?"

Danny gulped melodramatically. "I think I got her pregnant."

**A/N: Let there be general melancholy! Speech and Debate is closing tonight. ******

**If you're reading this (haha), review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Wait, what? Reviews? Hardcore. Thank you! If you are reading, please review. Any constructive criticism would be appreciated. **

FRIDAY, JULY 27

Howie coughed conspicuously. "Not as pregnant as this silence." David bit his lower lip to stop the laugh and kicked Howie, who smiled in the other direction.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, David prudently asked Danny if he was serious.

Danny was still gaping after Diwata. "Very, very fucking serious." His tone was bland and weak.

"So were you like, going out?"

"No. We were drunk. I don't even know her."

Howie thought of the sweatshirt. I know her. He blinked.

Danny shook his head like he was trying to regain his balance. "Fuck, man. I just… I didn't…I'm gonna go see if she's okay." Eyes too wide, he trotted off, arms swinging wide and loose.

Howie raised his eyebrows at David. "Well then."

But David was smiling downwards. "Hey, Solomon." Howie looked down and was surprised and annoyed to see Solomon still sitting there.

Solomon snapped his mouth shut. "Um, hey." He seemed stuck in time, frozen in one place and emotion. Still smiling, David helped him up. He brushed his hand over Solomon's hair.

"It looked better long."

Solomon nodded repeatedly. "Yeah. Yes, it did."

"Grow it out."

"Okay." Solomon hadn't quite caught up with time yet, and David was suppressing a grin.

Howie rolled his eyes away. "So what do y'all want to do?" he asked rather loudly.

David shrugged. "I dunno…burn stuff?"

Howie jutted his eyebrows up and then smiled with one half of his mouth. "For serious?"

David smiled with both halves of his mouth. "Maybe." Howie smirked. David didn't return the favor, because he was helping a slightly less disconnected Solomon stand up.

They all stood, looking at each other and then quickly away once eyes were met. "So let's go burn stuff," said David. After a moment of silence, Howie snorted and they walked to David's car.

THE PARK

"Diwata!" yelled Danny. She didn't turn around. He made a noise of annoyance in the back of his throat. He was certainly in shape, but he didn't feel like running at all. He'd already done his workout for the day. His shower was taken and his muscles were sore. Enough was enough.

But Diwata didn't come back, so Danny sped up, muttering obscenely. "Hey!" He jumped over a log and stumbled, grabbing at Diwata's shoulder for balance. She whipped away, and he fell to the ground. She glared down at him, and he stayed on the ground.

Neither of them said anything. A minute passed. Two birds began to wrestle, and Danny and Diwata had to fight the urge to look at them. Their eyes were still in angry contact, burning because they met each other, but unwilling to stop. And then Diwata laughed, because really, it was rather ridiculous, the two of them in the forest standing there, glaring at each other. It was ridiculous and horrible and unreal. Danny smiled, tentatively yet reflexively. This irked Diwata. It was okay for her to smile; it was not okay for him to. She stopped laughing, and he shut up.

"My mom won't let me throw the sweatshirt out."

He looked confused for a second. Then he forced himself to remember, and he grimaced quickly. "I'm sorry."

"About the sweatshirt or for getting me pregnant?" She tried mightily to keep her voice from shaking, and it worked.

He exhaled, and his breath did shake. "So you got pregnant?"

"Not for long." Diwata huffed and spun around. She sat down on the damp leaves and bit her tongue. The blood substituted for the tears hadn't fallen in years. Well, that no one had seen fall in years.

Danny grimaced a little. He was resigned to the fact that he was going to have to go over and sit next to her. He wasn't looking forward to it. Making a noise of minor disgust in his throat, he stood up, walked the few feet to Diwata, and sat next to her. She tightened her body, tucking her chin into her chest. Then she thought of the attention this drew to her chest, and instead glowered at the trees on the other side of Danny.

Danny wanted to be mad. He wanted to ask Diwata what she wanted him to do about it. He wanted to ask what her problem was. He wanted to tell her to grow up and move on. He wished that he could utter just a few well-selected words that rang painful and true. He wished that she hadn't gotten pregnant.

Danny puts his arm around Diwata's shoulder, and Diwata cried.

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	6. Chapter 6

It wasn't what Diwata had expected

**In the highly unlikely event that you are reading this, I am threatening both you and your future offspring if you don't review.**

FRIDAY, JULY 27

Diwata didn't sob for very long, but she did sob with every ounce of strength that she possessed. She put most of her energy into one heave of the shoulders. Then she brought herself back down to a hunch. Danny's arm followed her back. It seemed lighter than an arm should. She let her sobs peter out until she was snuffling like a tired toddler.

Danny had been glaring at the sun. He didn't look at Diwata until her wails had mutated into pathetic blubbering, and even then he had to tear his eyes away from the sky. Bright geometric patterns kaleidoscoped in front of him and he squelched his eyes shut.

She studied his welded-closed eyes, the clench of his jaw, the laugh lines that looked more like age lines. The corner of her mouth twisted up. She lay her head on his shoulder, as tentative and anxious as if he were her boyfriend, which he wasn't. He was tempted to jerk his arm into her doughy head. He refrained and gently slid it out from under her. He stood up, restoring his power of position. She looked up at him, her gaze undeveloped. Danny inhaled very deeply and very quickly. He held that breath for quite some time, staring Diwata in the face and trying to find the right place to begin. He heard so many middles and endings to his imagined speeches. Each individual insult was painfully specific, his old brand of quiet cruelty combined with a few pithy remarks that he had picked up from David. It had been working wonders in instant messages with the obsessive salutatorian and with his sister's ex-boyfriend.

Running out of breath rapidly, Danny decided to start with an accusation. He made every word as sharp and clean as a picket fence. "You are just so—" His breath failed. He gasped for another one and in doing so met Diwata's eyes. She was watching him with interest, still sitting on the rotting log. Her arms weren't crossed, her back wasn't tensed, and her eyes weren't slits. She looked less like the boa constrictor he remembered and more like an abandoned hound that had accepted it's fate. He released a disgusted and frustrated moan through closed eyes and open lips. Then he stalked away.

Diwata stayed on the log, rocking back and forth and smiling.

THE CAR

"David," Solomon asked, "Where're we going?"

David and Howie exchanged a glance, Howie heaving a light sigh. David shifted gears and looked at Solomon's head in the rearview mirror. "What time do you have to be home tonight?"

Solomon crinkled his brow and lifted his eyebrows. "It depends on what my parents think I'm doing."

David smiled. "You're going to a graduation party."

Solomon didn't ask if it was true. He took out his phone, looked at it for a millisecond, and speed dialed his father. "Hi, Dad? I'm gonna be home late tonight because I'm going to a graduation party. It's close to home. Yes…yes…I'll see you tomorrow. Yeah." Solomon terminated the phone call and flipped the phone shut while staring at the back of the seat in front of him.

Howie twisted in his seat so his head was facing Solomon and his ass was facing the oncoming traffic. "So, like, have you ever lied to your parents or was that your first time?"

Solomon regarded Howie with fledgling contempt. "No, I tell them the truth all the time."

Howie shrugged conversationally. "You could. I don't know."

David laughed. "How could he do that and still get out?"

Howie drew back his head and looked at David, excessively incredulous. "David! Have you _ever_ lied to your parents?"

David lifted the sides of his mouth and shook his head. "I," he declared, "am an exception. My parents have stopped wanting to know too much about my life. A simple 'I'm going out' tends to suffice."

Howie glanced sideways. "Oh, and if only they knew what you did when you got out."

David laughed a little to himself. "Solomon legitimately _has_ to lie to his parents. Although your dad did seem a bit better this year, Solomon." David tried to catch Solomon's eyes in the rear view mirror. Solomon was staring out the window at the meridian.

Howie hastily caught on to the potential tension brewing. "Whaddaya mean?"

David's words were like the dress shoes of a curator on his marble floor. Loving, but hard. "Solomon's parents are a bit…uptight."

Howie laughed. "No shit, look what they produced."

Solomon jerked his head around to look at Howie. David kept his eyes on the road and moved his head back and forth ever so slightly.

"So let's listen to some music," advocated Howie. No one said anything, so Howie turned up the radio. Poppy bass arpeggios rattled his seat. He rolled his eyes.

David covertly watched Solomon when they got to the next few stop lights. Though Solomon changed positions—he went from sitting upright to slouching to pulling his knees up to his chin—his eyes never strayed from a viciously failing attempt at blankness.

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